in this day and age, we name the strongest hurricanes and cyclones after furious women wielding thunder in their hearts and lightning in their eyes.
debbie, irene, katrina. we lace their names with fear and that fear spreads like contagion from city to city until entire countries of men fall to their knees at the mercy of a huntress with a vendetta.
yet we fail to grasp why woman after woman hurls her anger at those who claim earth as their hearth but fail to treat it like home… with love, respect, and kindness.
we fail to grasp why your huntresses have turned in their bows and arrows for gifts of nature in their final attempt to restore and protect the world you once ran wild upon.
but i, for one, sense the warning behind every hurricane, typhoon, and cyclone.
i’ve heard of wilma, hazel, camille, and patricia — been taught to fear the destruction a single one of your huntresses can cause because finally we have found ourselves to be fighting a war even guns and bombs cannot defeat. but i know that although your huntresses are strong, their power is nothing compared to the havoc and destruction you alone could wreak.
it’s how i know that the day the earth is struck by you, artemis… your name shall be whispered with tortured remorse from ear to ear until generations have vanished and the beauty of the earth can prosper for evermore.
— if artemis returned, c.j.n.